The Omen
by Silver the Kid
Summary: Dick and Tim hit a robin, and take it as a bad omen (and an excuse to shaft fighting crime). Just a random and goofy story. just give it a read-it's not long. RR


The Omen

A/N: this story is absolutely pointless and inspired by a robin that flew in front of my car.

DISCLAIMOR: I don't own these characters, because I'm not DC or Bob Kane.

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It was a night like any other night; you know... dark... with crime... and junk. Nightwing and I were just... chilalxin (dude, gotta love that word!) as we drove around in the bad ass Batmobile! Yeah, bud we was too cool pickin' up the ladies with our devilishly handsome good looks and-

_Tim, tell the story right!_

Dick is such a jerk. Ok, so we were in the Batmobile, as I mentioned before I was RUDELY corrected. Batgirl, AKA Barbara, called us for back up, as she was currently being swamped by bad guys with weapons and junk. Dick took a sharp turn and then:

SMASH!

Actually... more like:

SHPLOSH BUMP!

"Bud, what did we hit?" I ask, as he stopped the car. We jump out to take a little look-see. "Dude... that's a ROBIN! What's a robin doin' out in the middle of the night? Weird."

"It's a ...OMEN!" Dick was so dramatic.

"Dude! I'm gonna get hit by a CAR!" Ok, so maybe I'm a little dramatic too.

"Um, Bud, It could be MY omen- I mean I could get hit by a car!"

"Uh, CHA. I'm the current Robin."

"Dude, I was the ORIGINAL Robin."

"Kay bud. It's an OMEN for both of us." I reason- but I knew it was for ME.

"Totally. So... Wanna go home?"

"Cha... yeah." So we split and went home, like babies cryin' for our mama's; and we didn't care. Like we wanted to get hit by a car? Cha. Right.

We sat in the Bat cave, hiding from our fate, and eating junk food. Being a big baby was kind'a fun at times. The times when you can eat junk food and Bruce isn't around to yell at you. Just then Satan walked in.

_Tim, I don't think Bab's would like being called "Satan"._

Uh, well who's telling this story? ME. So back off. Satan: AKA Barbara, walks in. She looked P.Oed! Like... the way my teacher looked on April fools day. That was GREAT. HAHA. But she was also cut up, and bruised and looked pretty roughed up.

"Guys, I REALLY could have used the back up. What happened to you?"

"Um... well... see..." Dick stuttered, like a pansy.

_Dude, shut up. I was so just trying to think of an excuse. _

Ok ok. Dick stuttered like a stupid pansy. So I came right out and said the truth.

"We're gonna die, Barb! We hit a robin! It's an Omelet!"

"Omen!" Dick corrected me, although that doesn't make him any less of a stupid pansy.

"Oh my God." She rolled her eyes. "I could have died, and you guys go home with your tails between your legs because you HIT A BIRD?"

"A SYMBOLIC bird." I argue. Then entered the King of town: Bruce Wayne.

What the hell is with you and referring to people as ... other people? King of Town, that's like... Homesta-

It makes for an interesting story, do ya mind? Bruce comes in and asks us "what exactly is going on" without really using what normal people use: words.

"Look at me! Look what happened because THOSE two cry-babies hit a bird!"

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Satan- er, Babs continued.

"They killed a robin, so instead of coming to help me, they went home to hide from the big bad boogie omen." Obviously, she was mocking us. But I'm still alive and standing, so I regret nothing. "So I almost get beaten to death by a bunch of muggers."

"Boys." Bruce, I'd like to say, is a reasonable sort, but the truth is; he's not. "For lack of responsibility and for the possible scratch or bird guts on MY car... your both helping Alfred with the house work- good thing its spring. There should be lots of work for you to do."

"But Bruuuce! The omen!" we protest but he waved us off.

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"So Alfred, that's why we're here," Tim explained.

"Bruce just didn't get it. You get it don't you?" Dick asked.

"I think you boys watch too much television." Alfred sighed. "Come there is MUCH work to be done."

"If you'd just let me explain it all to Alfred we'd be out of this mess. But NO. You wanted to tell it- and you put us in the worst light possible! Calling Barbara Satan- that was sure going to win Alfred over." Dick was sarcastic.

"I was going for a style!" Tim huffed, picking up a rake. He and Dick felt real stupid, wearing overalls, gloves, boots (hidden under the overalls, thank god) and in Tim's case a ball cap. This was BARBARA'S doing, as she felt they needed to be truly punished for the damage to her person. So she made them dress like that. She got a kick out of it. They looked so cute- in that funny-puppy way (whatever THAT means).

"We are so... NOT in style." Dick sighed.

"Oh I'll MAKE me look cool." Tim slid the straps off his shoulders and had the upper half of his overalls hang from his waist, then turned his hat backwards. "Oh yea. Style is happening."

"No...you constantly get FREAKISH and cool mixed up." Dick muttered.

"Boys, less chit-chat and more helping if you don't mind." Alfred called. The two sighed and began their chores. Never again, they decided, would they let an omen get them into trouble like this again. Death was bad, sure, but chores and stuff; it just didn't seem worth it.

END


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